Rizzoli and Isles: Falling
by Becominglight
Summary: It's scary, it's new, but Jane is compelled to action.  Could it be she's falling in love?  that would be a yes.


Title: Falling

Author Name: Becominglight

Rating: M for adult themes, eventually NC-17

Category: Romance, Angst

Genre: Slash

Pairing: Jane/ Maura

Summary: It's scary, it's new, but Jane is compelled to action. Could it be she's falling in love? (that would be a yes.)

Spoilers: All of Season 1

Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me. Shame – because I love them! I make no profit from this, so please don't sue…

Author's Notes: Rizzoli and Isles rock and I'm dabbling in Fanfiction writing. This is my version of how our lovely ladies get together…

PART 1

I'll fall in love with Dr. Maura Isles on a Friday.

We'd known each other for some time when we finally went for that drink. We'd been working together in a job surrounded by testosterone pumped men, so I guess it was only natural we were drawn together by virtue of our sex. And I liked her slightly odd-ball humour, her social malaise, I found it endearing. We'd done the whole "Let's go for a drink sometime." speeches a few times but somehow it never happened until a particular case where I was the intended target (loooong story, maybe some other time…) and she'd dropped by in her little red leather jacket, orange handbag, blue gloves and a pet turtle for yours truly… sorry, tortoise. Yeah, she's not one for conventional gifts, that Maura. My place had been trashed by the perps and she'd come to help me clean up – we went for a bloody mary instead.

From there Maura insinuated herself into my life so subtly that I didn't realise she'd gotten under my skin, that she'd hooked and reeled me in. I didn't realise I'd grown to feel a secret thrill when I heard her warm honeyed voice say her name as she flashed her forensic badge, the clicking of the designer heels on the concrete, the sway of her bottom hugged by those tight little dresses, her golden hair flowing seductively down her back as she arrived to claim the dead. I didn't realise that the morning coffee had become an indispensable routine in my world, that I searched for the glint of her hair down the corridors of the police station and that it wasn't until I'd laid my eyes on her each day, that I knew all was okay in the world. I hide it all rather cleverly from myself.

I should be clued in by now to the fact that I like her especially as I've turned down a perfectly acceptable date to stay in and have takeaway with her on my couch. Ah denial, I know you well. We've popped on some movie, we're settling down with a nice cold beer (I've recently introduced her to the joys of that particular alcoholic beverage) and I laugh when she sits there humming her enjoyment. It's nice being here together, her arm pressed against mine (Maura has a way of invading my space which oddly I don't mind) and then she falls asleep part way through. Her head gently falls onto my shoulder, I sigh, sliding deeper into the couch to accommodate, feeling relaxed, content and I'm thinking about how there are so very few moments in my life that feel as good as this.

Then it hits me (finally).

Why this moment and not another when we've held hands (you know, to comfort each other) hugged, stood, our body's almost touching as we peer over a murder victim, hell I've even ogled her cleavage in a gay bar (again, looooong story!). Why this moment and not those? I don't know. Maybe I'd been too busy focusing on my job and tonight, for once, I'm not. Maybe the beer has lulled me, maybe the movie has subliminal messages imbedded in the image, doesn't matter because right now my brain feels like it's short circuiting. I can feel her snuggle into the crook of my neck, I can feel her breath caress my skin, I can smell her hair and it sends a tremor through my body. I sit quite still, trying to decide if I want to stay like this or if I want to move because having her this close, so innocently and sweetly tucked into me, is making breathing difficult. I look over which is a mistake because I'm now peering down her low cut top, her round, firm breasts rising hypnotically with her inward and outward exhalation. I hardly have time to register how incredibly perfect her cleavage is when her eyes flutter open and she catches me. She catches me, entranced, staring at her boobs. I turn bright red and shift away, catching the little furrow on her forehead she gets when she's figuring something out in that wizard like brain of hers.

"Were you staring down my top?" she asks. I have to admit her inability to lie (did I mention that? - well yeah, she literally can't tell a lie, she starts to hyperventilate) and her tendency to side step social decorum (such as pretending she hasn't caught me staring at her boobs when she has) is suddenly not as cute as it usually is.

"No! " I say as if it was the stupidest question she's ever asked and standing up to get away from her. I'm breathing a little hard and my heart is pumping fast, I can't hold still, this revelation like pins and needles on my skin.

"You okay?"

I somehow turn redder which is so unlike me, because normally I would say something sarcastic but my voice is gone and my mouth is quite dry so I take a good swig of the beer I'm clutching like a shield against me. Right, get a hold of yourself, Rizzoli! I put the beer down resolutely on the coffee table and extend my hand out for hers.

"I think I should take you to bed."

I hear how that sounds the moment I say it and cringe. Foot in mouth. I didn't meant to say that, I was just trying to think of a diversion tactic. Smooth, Rizzoli, smooth.

"Uh, okay." she says and places her delicate surgeon hands in mine.

"To sleep" I hastily add "You're tired and you may as well stay over - and it's not like we haven't' shared the same bed before..." (which we have, all very innocently, I might add) and I trail off as I pull her to my bedroom. I'm just digging myself deeper, I'm sounding like an idiot and I figure at any moment she'll catch on and let go of my hand to high tail it out of here. But she doesn't. In the bedroom I quickly busy myself getting her something to sleep in. Dammit, I don't own pyjamas and for the first time it actually bothers me. Maura favours silk - I know this because she showed up at my flat in her pyjamas one night when I called her (I was freaking out, okay!). I show her to the bathroom.

"Just - help yourself to anything in the cabinets, there's a new toothbrush in the top drawer, towels in the cupboard..."

"I know, Jane." She smiles and I leave her to it.

I take the opportunity to change and then sit on the bed. And breath. Oh dear lord. I like Maura. _Like that_. The last time I felt that sort of fluttering in my stomach I might have been a teenager, raging with hormones and ready to throw myself at anyone who'd have me. And I've just told her to stay the night. In my bed. I'll be fine. Not a problem. I'll just turn my back to her and fall asleep…

I'm interrupted from my angst filled reverie when Maura emerges, her clothes neatly folded in one hand. I can't help notice a delicate lacy bra in the pile and the sudden thought of her nakedness under my t-shirt is...arresting. She's scrubbed her face clean and looks so beautiful and fresh, I want, rather badly, to press myself against her soft, inviting curves and smell her. Oh, this is going to be an uncomfortable night!

We climb into bed. I glance at her out of the corner of my eye and she is lying there neatly, her arms by her side, staring at the ceiling. Our hands are inches apart and my little finger twitches as if it has a life of it's own, as if it wants to migrate over that space to stroke the skin of that small white hand, to curl around her little finger in a pinkie's promise. My breath is shallow at the though. Then she turns on her side to face me and I glanced quickly away closing my eyes. This is ridiculous! I have the dangerous desire to turn onto my side to face her too, to share her breath but I'm don't. The revelation of my attraction is so fresh in my mind that I don't know what to do, I'm paralyzed.

"Goodnight." She breaths after a moment.

"Goodnight."

I lie there stiffly, feeling her presence like a heat down the length of my body, wondering if she's looking at me the way I wanted to look at her or if, oblivious to the raging tempest in my breast, she's even now drifting to sleep.

PART 2

I'd love to tell you that even if we started at opposite ends of the bed, through the night our sub-conscious nudged us into each others arms, that I awoke to feel her spooning me, or I her. Or that she had flung her legs across my torso, her t-shirt riding up her body to expose her delicious smooth belly, her lips pressed to my neck, her hand in my hair or any other combination of gloriously compromising positions. Nope, no such luck. To be honest I'm surprised at how quickly I've gone from regarding her as a dear, but very platonic, friend to desiring her… well not so platonically. In fact my mind seems to have skipped right to where she's naked and moaning beneath me. Oh God, the though makes my poor brain spin.

The thing is that I didn't even know if she is:

A. that way inclined and

B. interested in me if she is...

That conversation we had the time we fell asleep on my bed about who we would like if we liked women had not been particularly elucidating. She'd rather resolutely told me I wasn't her type because I'm too bossy... The thing is I didn't quite believe her, the accompanying smile and giggle made it sound suspiciously like the digs we normally make at each. Or was that my wishful thinking? I'd not made mention of what I thought my preferences would be because I would have had to say that I _would_ fancy her if I was gay... which I guess I do and kinda am. ...

Sorry, I digress. As I said we do not end up in each other's arms and she's still sleeping when I wake, looking like an angel. I take the liberty to move in a little closer and really look at her. I study the curve of her cheek, the eyelashes, her soft round lips. I have to admit they looked rather inviting. I idly wonder if I have the courage to wake her up with a kiss and as I am thinking that she, of course, chooses that moment to open her eyes and look straight at me with her goddamn sexy morning eyes. Ah fuck! She's caught me staring at her again! I pull back trying to be casual.

"Morning, Maura." I croak .

"Morning, Jane." She smiles prettily and stretches. My libido is happily roaring away right now and it's not just because I haven't been laid in a while.

"Breakfast?" I say bounding out of bed, "What do you like?"

"How about... a smoothy maybe? I could make us pancakes?"

"I don't have eggs or fruit... but there is a cute little farmer's market down the road, we could go down there, pick up some stuff up...?"

She looks positively excited which makes me grin like a fool. We wander down, all the fruit and vegetable stands splashing bright colours on the street. It's a gorgeous day, warm and light, the sort of morning where you get up late, brunch and read the newspaper in the sun. Maura has such an infectious innocent joy about her (I know, what an oxymoron considering her profession) and I find myself laughing as she reels off more facts about fruit, vegetables and organic farming than I will ever need to know. And did you know that apparently in Hinduism, pomegranate fruit is symbolic of prosperity and fertility? Who'da thought. I tease her, as I always do, about her encyclopaedic knowledge of everything. The world feeling particularly immediate and fresh, the smells, the people, the sounds of life happening. I can't help but notice her leaning in to tell me something over the hubub of the crowd, an elbow touch to grab my attention, the way we gently bump together because we walk close together. It's such a simple mundane thing to go food shopping but with her, I love it.

Breakfast is over, we've washed up and I can tell Maura feels she should go and I don't want her to. I actually have to help my parents clear out the back yard, as I'd faithfully promised to my nagging mother earlier in the week. At the time I'd had nothing more exciting planned than a weekend on the couch but right now I really wish I didn't have to go.

"What you up to for the rest of the weekend?" I ask as I watch her puts on one of her designer heels, a Prada bag in hand.

"Nothing, just some chores and hanging out with Bass." Bass is her turtle…sorry, tortoise.

"Nice." I say and step in to hug her good bye which isn't really our customary thing, but she accepts it. I think I hold on a bit too tightly and perhaps a little too long and I may or may not have taken the opportunity to smell her. Am I imagining or does she hold me just as tightly back? I'm on the verge of saying that if she gets bored she is welcome to come to dinner at my parent's house - Ma has promised me her best spaghetti and meatball - but when I pull back she has an odd, unreadable look on her face like she knows. Not normally this sensitive, it's enough, however, for me to bite back the offer, feeling very foolish for at least the third time in the last 24 hours. Maybe it's best if I don't see her for the rest of the weekend, I decide regretfully, because I need some space to think. I watch her climb into her fancy car and feel silly for feeling a little bereft at her leaving.

PART 3

"There's something going on!" Mum has been saying all afternoon.

My fault really. I usually grumble and moan my way through such mind numbing chores like back yard clean outs but today I've been especially quiet and she may have caught me grinning to myself as I replay little moments from this morning like Maura smiling, Maura laughing, Maura wiggling in her seat because the pancakes were so delicious.

"Nothing's wrong Ma, drop it will ya!"

"Not until you tell me what it is."

"Ma!"

"You've met someone, haven't you! You're holding out on your poor mother, who wants nothing more than to see you happy?" Ma hoists a bag of hedge clippings onto her back. Dad steps in to take it from her.

"Let her be, Angela, she'll let us know if there is any young man she wants us to know about."

Bless Dad. A good silent type who feels that prying was prying.

"There is no man, Ma, I promise you." Phew, nicely side stepped and all done without lying.

She moves off, grumbling about how no one ever tells her anything (believe me we tell her pretty much everything because she'll get it out of us somehow be it by snooping through personal diaries or emotional blackmail.) and I gratefully take on the job of hauling wheelbarrows full of old bricks, planks and debris into the bin we've hired out the front of the house. So far I'd managed to get nowhere with my thoughts because I kept slipping into daydreams that involve a pliant, willing Maura Isles. It is hard to tell if it's this or the physical exertion that leaves me so hot and bothered.

It's near 4pm when I check my phone and let out a little chuckle feeling tickled by the text I find: "I think Bass misses you."

"Who is that from?" My mother asks suspiciously as I sit on the back door step.

"It's Maura, Ma." I say quickly exiting the screen.

"Oh." she says disappointed. "Well invite her over for dinner."

I know I said I wanted space to think but I want to see her more, so I dial her number.

"Hey, Jane." She says as she picked up.

"Hey." I say, "Ma asked if you'd like to come to dinner."

"I'd love to."

We're seated side by side. The Rizzoli family is not one for quiet, sedate dinners. It's loud and rowdy, full of laughter. Frankie and Pa are in the midst of a heated debate over who is the best Redsox player and Ma is getting up and sitting down every few seconds, telling them to shut up because that's what she does when a guest comes to dinner.

"Don't let my family scare you." I whisper patting her leg (I know, I'm totally taking advantage, but can you blame me?)

"Enough already!" Ma is saying "We have a guest and I hardly think she cares about the Redsox."

"Oh please, Mrs Rizzoli, I don't mind."

"Well I do. I tell you, growing up in a household full of baseball fanatics is not easy. And besides I'd rather hear about you. Jane talks about you all the time, you know."

I groan on the inside. God I feel so transparent. Ma has only met Maura few times but thankfully it's never lasted long enough for her start asking probing questions about her love life. I've warned Maura about Ma's disconcerting habit of profiling anyone who walks through the door and from the subtle shift in her seat I can tell she'd probably prefer the focus to stay off her.

"So tell me, Maura, do you know who Jane's new man is?" Ma says ever so casually as she twists the spaghetti onto her spoon.

"Ma!"

"You have a new man!" Maura turns in her seat to scrutinise me which makes me blush furiously.

"No, I don't!"

"She's been moony all day, a great big silly grin on her face. I know the signs. I'm not blind. I just though that you might know who it was."

"Sorry, Mrs Rizzoli, I don't"

Ma looks put out. She probably thought she'd been mighty cleaver trying to get the information out of Maura like that. "Well I guess she'll tell us when she's ready."

"Ma! I'm right here!"

"And how about you, Maura?" Ma continued as if I didn't exist. "Seeing anyone?"

"No. No one right now."

"I know some handsome single men. I've been trying to get Jane to agree to have a drink with them but she stubbornly refuses." She flashes me her despairing 'I don't know what to do with you' look, but brightens suddenly "I should set you up!" The thought seems to make Ma quite gleeful.

"Ma!" I glance to Pa and Frankie only to find them laughing into their napkins, their shoulders shaking with mirth. Poor Maura looks somewhere between panicked and touched. "Ma! Maura doesn't need you setting her up with your 'nice' Italian men!"

"Why not! Maybe she wants to. Had you though that maybe unlike you, she would like a man in her life, a family?"

I go quiet. I guess the though has occurred to me in that vague, non distinct way thoughts can be like. And until yesterday the answer to that question had not been as significant as it now was. I mean what if she does want a husband, children, a white picket fence. Isn't that what most women want? I don't like the thought of that . At all.

"Thank-you, Mrs Rizzoli, I'll be sure to let you know if I want to be set up."

Ma beams at her, this promise being more than she'd ever gotten out of me. "Here, have some more spaghetti and meatballs." She says piling her plate high and slapping Frankie on the hand when he moves in for the fourth helping. "Not if you want a wife, you don't."

"Oh really, I couldn't, Mrs Rizzolie. It was very delicious though, thank-you."

"Nonsense, you're like Jane here, a stick, men don't want a stick, they want something to hold onto, don't they?" Ma says turning to my Dad.

"Ma!" Frankie and I shout in unison. It's bad enough that she is mortifying me in front of Maura without planting the idea of my parents in a lovers clinch in our minds.

"I'm sorry about Ma" I say later as Maura and I sit, coffee in hand, on the back porch as the sun sets through the leafy trees of the back yard. It feels like one of those endless summer evenings where the world is good and anything is possible. We've drifted out together by some unspoken, symbiotic accord.

"Well sexual relations are very important to maintaining a healthy relationship. That doesn't change with age." She says in her matter of fact way.

"Maura!"

"What?"

"I wasn't just talking about … it was about Ma quizzing you on your love life…" I trail off and look at her looking at me, "You talk about sex a lot, you know that?" I'm remembering that comment about the runner's high being comparable to orgasm.

"It's probably because I'm not getting any. I'm becoming fixated."

"Oh" I'm suddenly robbed of my higher brain functions.

"And I don't really mind about your mother's questions. It's been a very pleasant evening."

I think she's thinking of the contrast between our homes. She's told me of the distance between her and her parents which only sees her home for Christmas and the occasional birthday. I can't conceive it ever being that way with my family. "Well, I think we can safely assume that she's adopted you."

"Really?"

"She force fed you while denying Frank Junior more in the same breath."

Maura give me one of those breathtaking smiles that light up her entire face.

"I love you family." she says warmly into her cup.

"You might not say that once you've had every eligible Italian man in Boston shoved down your throat." I chuckle, bumping her shoulder. I feel ridiculously pleased.

"Speaking of men." Maura says, her eyes lighting up, "Is there something you should be telling me?"

My heart flops because I'm having the terrifying thought of telling her how I feel. I don't know, to be honest, if I even want to, my mind is still a jumble of thoughts and feelings and mostly this compelling desire to be closer to her. But she's looking at me in this way she has, with such genuine affection that it makes me feel like I'm the only person present (okay so at this particular point I _am_ the only person present…) and before I realise I find the word's spilling from my lips.

"There is no man. But there is someone." I look down into the murky depths of my coffee cup.

"Okay…"

I swear my whole body is breaking out in a sweat, I can feel the fight or flight adrenaline burst into my veins. I can almost hear the clicking of the gears of her mind as she deduces what it is I am saying. She knows it can only be a woman, she knows I have no other female friends but her. She caught me staring most unsubtly at her cleavage last night.

I draw breath.

"It's you."

My voice has dropped to a whisper, the words hang between us and I glance up at her both afraid and compelled to know what she's thinking. We are, in fact, sitting very close, our legs touching and I am taken by the wild desire to kiss her in the same instant that I am aware of how much I've just put on the line. Her friendship. Oh God. I could loose her. What if she is disgusted by me, by my declaration? What if she doesn't want to be my friend anymore? Images of a cold, distant Maura assail me, cold like the morgue in the basement of the police station. One in which she calls me Detective Rizzoli and would stand a world away from me because the Maura I now know would be shut away, buried by a feeling she not only does not return, but by a feeling she abhors. Stupid, stupid! Why didn't I just keep my mouth shut! She's staring at me, I can feel her trying to find something to say but failing and the silence is deafening and long in my ears.

I nearly jump out of my skin when Ma opens the door. Beneath her arm is The Book in which lie all the photos of those eligible men. It usually has me jumping up and grabbing my keys. Today, The Book is not for me.

"Maura, come. I have some things to show you."

Ma goes to sit on the love seat and Maura looks at me. Some sort of unspoken conversation ensues that I only half grasp and then, after hesitating a moment and with a look of apology, Maura sits by my expectant mother who proceeds to extol the many virtues of the men in the photos. I stay where I am, the excited cadence of Ma's voice drifting into the dusk filled sky. My heart is beating against my rib cage and I feel so exposed. I dare a glance at Maura, who is politely listening, and I'm thinking that no one Ma can present to her can possibly be good enough for the amazing, complex, layered, goofy Dr Maura Isles - probably not even me. I know my thoughts are written so plainly on my face, so when Maura looks up, I escape into the house.

PART 4

It's Sunday evening. I sit with Jo Friday on the couch, the TV on mute and my skin is itching. I jump up, go to my wardrobe, picking out an old t-shirt, some leggings and my running shoes. I can see my P.U.K.E leotard hanging conspicuously there as I change. I hit the pavement hard, Jo Friday yapping happily on her leash and proceed to run and run and trying not the acknowledge the well of tears that threaten.

When Maura had finished being accosted the previous night, I'd been sitting in the armchair of the living room, my keys in hand. She'd said she was leaving and then asked if I was too. I had nodded mutely and we'd left. An awkward, awkward silence followed us out to the car. I didn't know what to say and I guess Maura didn't either.

"Jane." She'd said as I opened my door. I had turned to her, quelling the hope in my eyes. She'd stood there with a look I couldn't decipher. What was she thinking in that startling, complex mind of hers?

"I'll call you." She'd finally said.

But she hasn't. Twenty-four hours that feel like an eternity and I can feel her slipping away from me with each passing minute, until I figure we won't be able to salvage anything, not even our friendship. I've royally fucked up. I've been brash, foolish, too quick to jump in head first. What was I thinking?

I eventually turn home before Jo Friday stages a mutiny. I pick her up, cuddling her tightly, burying my face in her soft doggy hair.

"What am I to do, Jo Friday?"

I open the door, releasing Jo Friday from her leash and she runs in yapping happily. How simple it is for her, I think, she knows nothing of falling for best friends who you happen to work closely with, or the agonies of waiting for a phone call that doesn't come. And then I see her head above the couch catching the dying light in her golden hair, her voice murmuring in welcome, patting Jo Friday. I closed the door and she turns.

"Hello, Jane."

"Hello Maura."

I'd given her a key shortly after my house had been broken into figuring it may be wise. I'd failed to imagine this scenario. I move to the kitchen and pour myself some water.

"Can I get you a drink?"

"I'm fine thanks."

She's watching me over the back of the couch.

"I just need to shower quickly." I mumble and escape. By the time I return clothed, hair damp, scrubbed of sweat I feel more equal to her presence. I sit down at the far end of the couch and look at her steadily.

"You didn't call."

"No, I didn't."

"And you're here now."

"Some conversations are best done in person."

I wait for her to speak acutely aware of this pulsing energy that in spite of what she may or may not feel rolls between us, undeniable, powerful, like a siren call. I can't help it, but I am sucked into her.

"I'm not impulsive." She starts "I'm not someone who jumps in feet first… I call blood a redish-brown stain until lab result come in!"

I smile at this because we've had numerous arguments about it.

"You took me by surprise."

"I took myself by surprise."

"And I admire that so much. You are so brave, braver than I am. I don't know what I would have…" She trails off, shifting, betraying a nervousness that she seldom shows. "I did some research. Four percent of the population identify as lesbian or gay in the US, did you know that? And that, in fact we are all placed on a continuum called the Kinsey scale of sexuality, that grades a person's sexuality on a scale of zero for exclusively heterosexual and 6 for exclusively homosexual and that it can change in a person's lifetime? It's been recorded in various civilization for centuries, and American Indian tribes even incorporated it into their culture, that these people were even revered…" She trails off again and blushes, taking a moment to collect herself as she fiddles with the ring on her hand. "Sorry, I'm rambling… It's just that I never though of you that way before. You're my friend. The best friend I've ever had and I guess I'm scared of loosing that…"

My throat chokes up, the change swift, certain now, of where this is going and I only hoped I haven't ruined what we have even as I know that wish to be vain. The veil is lifted and I can't go back to seeing her as just a friend. I just can't.

"Maura, stop. I get it. I don't blame you. Thank you for coming to tell me in person." I rise so she understands that she has to leave because she does. I need her to go because I feel humiliated, I feel tears building up and I don't want her to see me cry.

"No." I feel her warm hand wrap around my wrist. "That's not what I'm trying to say."

"Then what are you trying to say? Because to me it sounds like you're trying to say thanks, but no thanks!"

"I'm trying to say that this is new for me. That I've never looked at a women in this way before."

"I get it! I do! It's fine, I don't expect you to return my feelings." The tears are pooling dangerously "Please go, Maura, I need to be alone right now."

"No. I'm not going anywhere until you've listened to what I have to say."

"Please…"

"No, listen to me first!"

"I have been listening to you!" I cry and the tear drops fall, I wipe them angrily away, "and I get it!"

"No you don't! Just.. shut up and sit down!" I am so surprised I comply. Her hand slides into mine.

"What I've been trying to say is that it's new. Last night when you told me you were attracted to me, yes, it took me by surprise. I didn't know how to react. I'm a scientist, I need time to process things, it's the way I am… but then I realised that I've always done that. Always been cautious, safe, distant, not like you who is so fearless and you know what? I don't want to be like that with this. I realised that the thought of us… I liked it…"

I feel Maura gently tuck my hair behind my ear, feel her lean into kiss the last tear drop from my cheek. Soft lips. I turn to look at her. She leans in again and kisses the tear drop from my other cheek. As she pulls back I see her eyes drift from my eyes to my lips. My heart stops. Our lips meet. Oh wow! I can feel it like a current on my skin, so electrifying, so very visceral. We pull back and I looked at her wondering if she felt what I felt.

"I want to kiss you again." I say and she nods so I cup her cheeks and kissed her slowly, savouring it, tracing her bottom lip with my tongue and when I pull back her cheeks are flushed, her pupils dilated. I feel a little triumphant.

"Wow, that was, ummmm…. sensual." Maura says and looks at me hungrily. As desperately as I want to taste her again I know myself. It would be dangerous.

"I need to go and wash my face." I say. "I won't be long."

When I returned she looks newly composed.

"Stay for dinner?"

"I'll help you cook."

"You don't trust my cooking, do you!"

Maura smiles mischievously at me.

PART 5

"Who the flowers from?" Korsak, my ex-cop partner asks suspiciously as I walk into the building with a bunch of white lilies in one hand, a tray of caffeine in the other. I curse because I'd hoped to get to the morgue undetected.

"None of your beeswax. I'll see you later." I say offering him some coffee and he gives me that look which tells me I'm not off the hook.

When I enter the morgue Maura is already there flicking through some paperwork. I take a moment to take her in and then she looks up.

"Hey Maura. I saw these and thought of you." I shove the flowers forward.

"Thank-you. I love lilies." Her face lights up and she looks touched.

"I know."

"They're beautiful. I'll put them in water."

This feels strange. I'm standing like a dork not sure what say. Normally we'd fall into easy banter, we'd unconsciously invaded each other's space, unthinkingly lay a hand on an arm, a shoulder but in light of our new… well I'm not sure quite what it is…

"I had a lovely time with you last night." She says and I smile because it'd was more than lovely. We'd laughed about Ma and The Book and I'd regaled her with the story of how I'd been so eager to escape its clutches that I'd once done the classic "Oh my phone was on vibrate and I've got a call coming through" ruse only to have Korsak call moments later with a murder. Thankfully that had been equally effective in removing me from The Book's clutches. After dinner the evening had been so nice that we'd gone for a walk and we'd held hands. She'd told me about the latest science journal article she'd read on anthropology. Something about a new prehistoric skeleton discovery – to be honest I wasn't exactly listening, I was more entranced with looking at the woman before me, the tilt of her head, her sparkling eyes, her deliciously geeky enthusiasm for science. It made me want to kiss her so I boldly did and she laughed against my lips, asking me if this was my new way of shutting her up. And when she'd left she'd pressed up against me, her small warm body moulding into me. "I'll see you tomorrow." She'd whispered and left.

"Yeah, I had a great time." I say self-consciously. "And I was wondering if I you'd go to dinner with me on Friday."

"Ooooh a date night!"

"Yeah, a date night!"

"I'd love to."

I smiled goofily at her.

"Thank you for the flowers."

"You're welcome."

I must still have that silly grin plastered on my face when I get back to my desk because Korsak, now flanked by Frost, sidles over to my desk.

"Where are the flowers?" Frost asks. I give Korsak a withering look.

"Hey! I can't keep things from your partner, right?"

"I gave them to Maura." I shove a coffee into Frost's hand hoping they'll drop it. After all it was the truth and it was quite feasible I'd give unwanted flowers away.

"New man in your life?" Frost continued.

"No!" I said

"I believe the lady doth protest too much. I hope he's not a nurse or want to be a stay at home dad." They duck as I screwed up some paper and throw it at them."

"I'll remember to be real understanding when you two get yourselves a love life!"

"Does that mean that you actually got yourself one?"

"Oh shut-up!"

I fully expect to not get a moment's rest for the entire day from either of them but when Korsak returns from lunch he is strangely quiet.

"Not that I'm complaining!" I say to Maura that evening. I've come down to get an autopsy report.

"I caught him snooping around the flowers when I got back from our lunch. I think he found the card. He left rather quickly."

"Oh" I'd written a small card that I'd hidden in the arrangement: Maura, you are breathtaking. Have dinner with me Friday? Xo J.

"Well I guess he knows."

"How do you feel about that?"

"Well – I mean I'd probably have preferred telling him myself… and maybe not just yet… How about you?"

"Oh, I'm fine with it. His outer orbicularis_oculi pars lateralis_was very entertaining to watch when he spotted me."

"I can imagine." I said dryly. "You working much later?"

"Just have to finish this report and then I'm heading home."

"Don't stay too late." It's a bit of an oxymoron coming from me but it suddenly matters that she not overwork herself.

She smiles. "I won't."

"Frankie tells me you got flowers at work and that you look inordinately pleased all day." Ma is telling me down the phone. Damn you, Frankie! He can't keep his mouth shut.

"Ma! I'm telling you I do not get any flowers from some guy because there is not guy!"

"But Frankie told me that Korsak told Frost who told him that you had a bouquet of flowers today."

"There is no man, Ma."

"Why are you hiding this from your poor mother?"

"I'm hanging up now!"

"Jane!"

I hang up. Oh lord, it's coming at me from all sides! And all I really want is to spend some time with Maura and figure out what is developing between us. My phone rings again and I groan.

"Ma, I'm done discussing it!"

She huffs down the phone at me. "I wasn't going to say anything more," A lie, "I just wanted to tell you to come to dinner Wednesday night."

"Okay, Ma."

"Maybe you can bring someone special."

"Ma! Give it up will you!"

"Okay, okay. Bring Maura."

"Okay."

"Good. Well, I'll talk to you later."

"Bye. Love you."

"I love you too Janey."

"Ma! Don't call me Janey." I hang up.

PART 6

Korsak and I are in the café across from the police station eating lunch. It's become a rarer occurrence in recent times because I somehow end up stealing Maura's lunch a few times a week, even if it is from the dead people's fridge. But this conversation deserved a proper tête à tête.

"So you found the card in the flowers."

"Yup." He says picking up his BLT

"I guess that means you figured out that Maura and I are a bit more than friends…"

"Yup." He says biting down.

"Ummm – do you want to talk about it?"

"What is there to talk about? You like women." There is something reproachful in his voice.

"Well, Maura to be specific."

"Maura's a woman."

"Yeah, she is."

I can't say I'd really dwelt on what going out with Maura might entail but I suddenly realised that this could well be the first in a series of such conversations and it scares me. Is this what I want? To have to explain something which, really, shouldn't have to be explained? To have an endless series of 'coming out' moments where I have to reveal that I have a girlfriend and not a boyfriend?

"Does that bother you?"

"That she's a woman? No."

Oh for Christ's sake! "Korsak! Work with me here!"

"What?"

"You've got something stuck up your ass, care to share?"

His BLT hangs halfway to his mouth, tomato juice dripping onto his plate. "Well you coulda told me, you know. All those years we were partners. I thought we were friends, Jane."

"You think I've been keeping this from you?"

"Well, haven't you?"

"This kinda hit me like a Tsunami. I never suspected until this weekend."

"You figured this out over the weekend and you're suddenly bringing Maura flowers and asking her out?"

"Yeah, well it you gotta grab someone like her while you can…"

"Anyone else know?"

"No. Just you."

He likes that thought. "Does she feels the same?"

"I think so. I hope so."

"You lucky thing, Rizzoli." He says his eye lighting up and his eyebrows rising into his hairline. " Maura's hot."

"Korsak!"

"What?"

"Only I get to say that about Maura!"

"Okay!" He says holding a hand up in surrender then throws me a grin and continues to eat.

"You won't say anything, will you? I kinda want to figure out what this is before I broadcasting it everywhere…"

"Sure. But I expect a full report of your date on Monday."

Great. Blackmail.

"Whatever you say, Korsak."

"So tell me. Have you… you know…yet?" He asks significantly and wiggles his eyebrows at me.

"Korsak!" I throw my napkin at him

"Okay, okay!" He laughs, looking all together too smug.

I have a feeling I am going to regret having told him. Maybe I shouldn't have said anything.

By Friday I really wish I hadn't. He's useless at keeping anything on the low down. Every time I come within hearing distance he has some cryptic jibe for me which naturally fuels the rest of the guys in the precinct into thinking that I had some new man in my life and they pounce on me gleefully. I escape to the basement where Maura laughs.

"Why don't you just tell them?"

"You think that'll improve things?" I say thinking that it feels far too premature to be announcing anything right now .

Maura seemed to think about it a moment. "Fair point."

I pull her closer to me, slipping my arms around her waist. "You ready for our date tonight?"

"I'm leaving at 17:30 tonight to be home by 18:15. I then have one hour and fifteen minutes to get ready before you pick me up."

"I'll take that as a yes. And if I wasn't at work and on duty, I'd kiss you very thoroughly, Dr Maura Isles." Instead I content myself with a chaste peck.

"Jane!"

I freeze. I pull back slowly only to see Frankie standing at the door looking scandalized.

"Ummm, hi Frankie." Maura extricates herself delicately and tries to look busy elsewhere.

"Oh my God, Jane! Are you serious? You and Dr Isles?"

"Yeah, me and Dr Isles. You got a problem with that?"

"And you didn't tell me?"

"And have to deal with the reaction? No thanks."

"Ma is going to flip!"

"Frankie, please, you can't say anything."

"I can't not tell her! She'll kill me if she knows I kept it from her."

"And I swear, Frankie, you'll be castrated if you do!"

He looks uneasy.

"Well at least give me until Saturday, Frankie, I promise I'll tell her tomorrow."

He looks reluctant.

"Promise me!"

"Okay." He finally says. He looks over to Maura and then at me a number of times and I can see the thought process loud and clear on his face. And then he winks.

"Good on ya, sis." He whispers leaning to slaps me on the shoulder.

I collapse as he leaves on a nearby stool and groan. Maura comes up behind me and rubs my shoulders.

"That went sort of well…"

"This is happening so fast, Maura."

"I know."

"How are you so calm about it all?"

"I don't have the work colleagues, the brother or the parents to worry about…"

"You have your parents."

"Yes. But they're busy with their lives…" there is a longing in her voice.

"I'm sorry." I fell like a great big dick. "I should be grateful that I have until tomorrow before all hell breaks loose in the Rizzoli family and that I get to spend it with a very special woman." I say turning to face her. "And on that note, I don't care if we are at work, I'm going to really kiss you Dr Maura Isles, just this once."

I walk to door, close it, lock it and then pull her into a little hidden corner, pushing her up against the wall.

"What are you doing?" she says, giggling and a little breathless. Have I mentioned I find her so utterly charming and sexy?

"I'm making sure we don't have the Chief of Police accidentally walk in on us."

"Oh. Good foresight."

I'm determined to make this a good one so I press into her, thread my hand in her hair and kiss her deeply. She kisses me back and though I'd wanted to leave her breathless, it is, in fact me who is weak in the knees when we finally pull away. Good lord, that woman…

"You're evil."

"I'll see you tonight." She says sweetly, ducking under my arm and returning to work. I think it's payback for Wednesday night. After dinner with my parents I had dropped her home and hadn't been able to stop myself from kissing her quite thoroughly. Indescribably soft and yielding, she had opened her mouth and I had slid my tongue in, my hand finding its way under the hem of her blouse to the silken skin bellow. She'd whimpered as I nipped her earlobes.

"Why, Dr Isles, was that the sound of the Queen of the Dead melting just a little?" I'd said, loving that I'd elicited that sound. She'd earned herself that dubious title some time back due to her professed preference for the company of the dead over the living.

"The earlobe is an often overlooked erogenous zone, owing to the many nerve endings..." she'd said, trailing off as I sucked on it more earnestly.

"Oh God, Jane!" she had cried and gently pushed me back.

"Sorry, I got carried away." I'd said not really feeling sorry at all. She'd looked at me in a way that made my heart skip.

"I think I should go." And she'd left.

Yep, that was definitely payback.

PART 7

Oh wow. She's wearing a loose bronze silk shift dress gathered at the waist by a black diamante belt, falling off one shoulder, exposing an expanse of smooth skin. It falls mid thigh, showing off her toned legs and she's wearing shoes that are making me weak in the knees. Her eyes are smoky, her cheeks subtly flushed, her lips rosy, plump, kissable. I think I've just gained an all new appreciation for women's fashion.

"Wow." Is pretty much all I can get out, "Wow…"

She smiles, pleased. "Thanks." And looks at my decidedly more modest black dress, the one Ma had pretty much forced me to buy for my birthday. I've smoothed out the frizz of my hair, added a touch of make-up, worn my black heels and I feel comparatively plain until I feel her eyes rake over me.

"You look gorgeous." She says and suddenly I feel it. I gruffly offer her the pink, long stem rose I'd brought.

"A scented Hybrid Tea rose." She says, "Favoured by the floral industry. The colour light pink has many meanings including admiration, grace, joy, sweetness. The lack of thorns symbolise "love at first sight"."

I clear my throat self-consciously, "Yeah, well, I just thought it was pretty…"

"I'll put it in some water."

I've chosen a posh French restaurant that has been given excellent ratings, one I think Maura will appreciate because I want this first date to be memorable. I open the door for her - into my carefully cleaned car – and I've set the radio to the classical station she favours while at work. It's slightly awkward as we drive, the newness of what we are starting robbing us of our usual ease until she blurts out, "Mozart's Symphonie No. 38 performed by the Prague Orchestra."

"What?" I've been trying to figure out what to say beyond how incredible she looks but my mind has melted, I'm tongue-tied.

"That is the name of the piece playing on the radio. Mozart's Symphonie No.38."

"Oh."

"I remember playing the violin in high school and at the climax of the piece accidentally poking Steward Riddle in the eye during the end of year concert. He fell over causing half the orchestra to go down too in a domino effect. Needless to say the playing stopped and I never lived it down. I was Unko Maura for all my senior year."

"Unko?"

"As in uncoordinated."

I start to laugh, the image of Maura bowing energetically into the eye of her unsuspecting band mate dancing in my mind's eye. I proceed to gleefully poke fun at her the rest of the way to the restaurant. She, in return, obligingly calls me "rolly-poly Rizzoli eats cannoli" and by the time we've finished our meal (Maura having ordered for us in what sounded like flawless French) we're giggling like school girls, intoxicated as much by each other as from the wine. We linger over a decadent chocolate brownie with cream, house-made caramel ice-cream and slices of strawberry that has Maura making little noises that have me hot and bothered.

"You're incredibly sexy." I say and she blushes, "and you have cream on your face."

"Where" she says leaning over the table for me take care of it. Feeling bold I lean forward to lower my lips to the corner of her mouth, licking the cream away. I hear her breath catch.

"Thanks." She murmurs and sips her wine. I can feel the undercurrent of tension ratchet up a few notches so I am not entirely surprised when she asks me in for coffee as I drop her home. I know what it means, of course, and even if it is moving fast, I do not say no. Maura brings the coffee but before I have the chance to taste it, she is kissing me deeply, an urgency rising in us both. Her body is leaning in, pushing me into the couch, pressing me down. My stomach is fluttering as her hand skims up my thigh, my waist, tracing the contour of a breast. She pulls back and looks at me, watching me as she slowly cups it, running her thumb over my stiffening nipple. It feels so incredibly erotic to have her above me, to feel her weight on my body, her eyes upon me as she touches me. I arched into her hand. Then I pull the silk clean from her shoulder and taste the patch of skin that had been driving me crazy all night. My dress is riding up and her leg has settled between mine, pressing against the heat between my thighs. Oh God!

And then my phone rings. From the ring tone, I know it's Ma. I feel Maura start to pull back but I stopped her, kissing the length of her jaw to her lips.

"I'm leaving it." I say and she doesn't argue. My fingertips traced down her back, slipping under the silk hem of her shift dress and groaning as I feel her firm naked ass, lifting my leg to feel the wetness through her g-string as I grind her onto my leg. Oh, wow. I'm running on instinct, my mind reduced to firing synapses. I don't know how it really works with women but I had a sneaking suspicion that Maura has researched …

And then the phone rings again. Maura pulls back and I growl.

"Sorry, Jane, maybe you should answer..."

I know it will drive Maura crazy if I don't, so I extricate myself and grab the phone.

"Ma?" I sound pretty pissed.

"Is it true?"

"What?"

"You and Maura."

I groan and rub my face.

"How did you…?"

"You're not going to even deny it!"

"Ma… I don't know what to say, it just happened…"

"How do you mean it just happened? When were you planning on telling me? I have to find this out from your brother?" She's in a right state and I know better than to try and calm her down.

"Do you love her?"

"Ma!" I glance to Maura who has straightened herself out and moved delicately away, coffee in hand and is patting Bass who has crawled from the hallway to the door. It seems a bit early to be thinking about love. "I…"

I hear a click at the end.

"She hung up."

Maura comes to sit and strokes my back. I feel miserable.

"I'm sorry, Maura."

"Hey, it's okay" she kisses my temple. We are silent a moment, the mood broken and I listen to Bass' soft padded foot fall on the wooden floor boards.

"I should go." I finally say.

"Thank-you for a wonderful evening." She says. I can see a moment of incertitude in her eyes, a question as to what next. So at the door I kiss her tenderly.

"I'll call you. Good night, sweet Maura."

PART 8

The buzz of the phone wakes me up early the next morning after a sleepless of thoughts playing in an infinite insomniac loop.

"What?" I say scowling down the phone. "Yeah. I'll be there."

A murder. Could probably do with a distraction.

It's a victim that has been brutally stabbed with an ice pick. Maura turns up, dressed in one of her little dresses. She's breezy and focused and I can't figure out her mood after last night. We get the body back to the station, Maura, through some miracle, pushes the DNA results through same day and I'm there when the call from the lab comes through.

It's a surreal moment when you realise you are part of a case, that you are no longer the observer of the drama unfolding but implicated in it. With Hoyt I have now lived that three times. It breaches that fourth wall, that vital fourth wall that as an investigator you stay behind because it's the only way to maintain a sense of personal safety and detachment. I often wake up at night from nightmares of him infiltrating my home, my work place, accosting me in the park. I'd been sleeping in the lounge for the three weeks up to that night Maura had stayed over, when I'd realised I wanted her. My bedroom, where Hoyt's accomplice had been shot dead at my brother's hand, lingered with the after taste of death.

And now Maura's fourth wall has gone with a single DNA result. This victim is her half brother, a man she has never met, never even knew about but of whom she's dreamed of. A link to a past she knows nothing of but for which she no doubt longs for with the ferocity of one who is denied something many take for granted. A past. A family. A history.

"Look a me, I'm fidgeting. I never fidget." She says as we sit on the park bench on this warm Saturday afternoon, the light filtering down to rest on the grass like patchwork pieces.

"Welcome to the human race!" I say and I illicit a smile from her, a small chuckle.

"I always wondered what it would be like to have a sibling more than what it would be like to meet my biological parents."

"Seems normal…"

"I don't know anything about him, I don't know his name… all I know is that he was a thief."

"And… a brilliant artist."

"It's not enough… How did he end up on my table, why did he do what he did, what if I never know?"

I resolve in that moment to find out for her, to track down the answers that I can see she needs to know.

"How much do you know about your biological parents?"

She tells me she knows nothing. A private adoption and a birthdate. I curse silently because that makes it so much harder. A private adoption with a sealed court order and insufficient grounds upon which to request them. But I'll still try.

We sit a moment longer in the sun and I hold her hand. I want to comfort her but I'm not sure of our boundaries. Our romance, so recently started, is perhaps not appropriate or even desired. What she really needs is my friendship, right? Maura gives me no clue and I'm sensitized to her, acutely aware that now is not the time to be demanding or needy. So I do what I can: I follow the evidence trail, and it quickly unravels. I find out who her father is. A criminal. A murderer. An Irish mob leader. Before I can tell her this he comes to identify his son and I can only imagine how it feels for Maura to stand centimetres from the man she has longed to meet all her life. I tell her my findings and she can't sit still, pacing back and forth in my apartment. What if she is like him, she asks, predisposed by genetics for crime and murder? Is her peculiar affinity to death, her choice of profession a sign of such darkness? I've never seen her like this – so unsettled, so affected and it scares me because I don't know what to do.

In a moment of poor judgment I leave her alone in the morgue. I'm trying to give her space, not make her feel crowded but then she's kidnapped and I'm beside myself. How could I have been so stupid? And there are no leads so I'm reduced to pacing back and forth and shouting at Korsak and Frost. I literally pounce on my mobile when it rings. "Whatever you want, I'll get it." I say but to my intense relief it's Maura. She's safe. I rush to my apartment and she arrives minutes later. I don't care about space, I don't care about crowding her, I crush her to me until I feel my panic subside and then I cup her face and kiss her repeatedly.

"Thank God, you're safe." I say. I pull her back to me and she tucks her face in my neck and hold me just as tightly back. Her nose pressed to the hollow in my neck, she tells me that it was her father who took her, that he wanted to know who the killer of his son was so he could kill them because they'll come after her next I tell her perhaps she should tell him. I was serious when I said I'd do anything, get anything to keep Maura safe. I start to laugh as I realise that I'm a cop and I'm falling for the daughter of Boston's Irish mafia boss. It's so West Side Story.

"Why are you laughing?"

"I'm just glad you are okay."

"Thank-you." she says and I can feel how shaken she is by everything. "Can I have some serial? Whenever I had nightmares my Father would always feed me serial with milk. I find it comforting somehow."

I stroke her cheek. My sweet, goofy, Maura.

"Of course. I'll get you some."

Technically it isn't me who lets Maura's Father know who the killer is. I don't have to, Korsak does it for me. It's the afternoon on Monday when we finish with the crime scene, Maura's brother's killer splayed on a chair an icepick through the heart, a warning to all rivals to leave his family the hell alone. It shouldn't be her doing this but she is on call and the only coroner with jurisdiction to work the site, due to the long weekend. The autopsy of her brother's murderer will be performed by Dr Henry Gish, a methodical, partly retired coroner who picks up the slack when Maura's workload is too much. We'd been at the Dirty Robber prior to the call out, Frankie having pounded on my door at some ungodly hour to find Maura sitting over her cereal.

"Oh Maura, hey." He'd said, her presence at my place in the middle of the night not seeming to faze him. He'd looked at me dubiously though when it became clear that Maura was coming with us to help sort the plumbing problem. When she'd gone to the bathroom I'd taken a good swipe at the back of his head.

"Ow!"

"You told Ma!"

"I swear I didn't say anything – she guessed! She took one look at me and she knew I knew something and I don't know how she did it but she figured it out." I'd relented because to be honest Ma does have some unnatural sixth sense.

"Well you better be working on her." I'd said. "And Dad?"

Frankie had shrugged. "He hasn't said much on the subject."

When we'd walked into the bar, Dad's head had popped up over the counter. He'd looked at me, then at Maura and then gruffly said hello and that had been that.

By unspoken accord, Maura returns to the bar with me after leaving the crime scene and it is she who fixes the plumbing problem. Suddenly she's shot up in Dad's estimation.

"Now here is a woman who knows her plumbing." He beams, slapping her on the shoulder. Just wait until he finds out she knows about cars too.

"Look at you!" I tease Maura, "You're seducing the Rizzoli family."

PART 9

Maura starts to pull away. At first I figure it's because she has so much to deal with and I try to let her know I'm there, but I start to wonder if she's avoiding us. I try to broach the subject of her father but she doesn't seem to want to talk about the revelations that have rocked her world and she gets a quiet, withdrawn look on her face. She's not fine and for some reason neither are we. I don't quite know what to do because I don't want to push her further away. I'm not sure of our boundaries, I don't know what I feel for her or she about me. All I know is I can't just be her friend anymore.

"Hey, Maura."

A long day at work, it's knock off time and I haven't seen Maura all day, she had an autopsy to do perform and then paperwork.

"Hey, Jane." She says looking up from her desk.

"How's you day been?" My hands are deep in my pocket, I'm feeling awkward and gangly right now, so I'm scuffing my feet. Maura gives me a look because it irritates her when I do that. So I stop and now feel like a lump standing in front of her.

"Almost done for the day?"

"Yeah, I should be done in a minute. Today has been too long." She cricks her neck and then stretches, her arms above her head and I'm staring because it's damned sexy. I avert my eyes before she notices, I think.

"Wanna go for a drink? Could do with a bit of a change of air after today's borefest."

"Oh, I'm sorry, Jane. I have a hair appointment… maybe later this week?"

Normally I wouldn't blink at this but I swear it's the fifth time I've suggested something and each time she has an excuse. In fact it's kinda pissing me off because I thought out of everyone, Maura would at least be up front. I step back and fold my arms.

"If you don't want to do this…" I'm trying to sound in control but my heart is hammering.

Maura's suddenly up and grabbing her bag, interrupting me saying "Oh god, I didn't realize the time, I've got to go now if I want to make it. I'll talk to you later, okay?" and she's gone.

What the fuck?

Frankie finds me moping over a lone cold beer and I'm feeling pretty sorry for myself.

"What's up, sis"

"Nothing."

"Wow. You didn't bite my head off for asking that, it must be bad. Spill."

I feel pretty desperate so I sigh. "It's Maura."

"I thought things were going well with you two!"

"So did I! But she's been all distant lately… ever since a case we worked a few weeks back."

"I suppose you can't say what the case was?"

"It's not my place to say."

"Have you tried talking to her about it?"

"She bolted. She wouldn't even let me start and she just bolted out the door! I don't get it, have I done something? Is she having second thoughts about us? And the worse thing is that normally I'd call Ma about this sort of thing and she's not talking to me!"

"Have you tried calling her?"

"Of course I have, Frankie. She's not answering my calls."

"Well maybe you should go around and see her."

Well I suppose my day has been super crappy already. What's one more thing?

I knock on the door. I never knock on the door but I feel like I should. Ma will look through the blinds as she always does and see me there. For a moment I wonder if she will even open the door, but she does.

"Hey, Ma." I say when she appears with a dish towel over her shoulder.

"Jane."

"Can we talk?"

She hesitates and I'm thinking she might actually say no, that she has dinner on, but she gestures me in. We sit in the living room after she's shooed Dad out sitting down on the edge of the seat, the way she does when she goes to parent teacher evenings. Formal and stiff.

"You haven't been picking up my calls" I say and wince at how accusatory it sounds.

"I've had to think about a few things."

"Without talking to me? Don't you even want to hear what happened?"

"You're in love with a woman." She says bluntly, "What more do I need to know?"

I'm looking at Ma and not quite believing what I'm hearing. My mother, the one who I would've picked as the least homophobic, the one who would accept me regardless. "I don't know if it's …"

"But you're gay." She said looking at me hard.

"I guess, I don't know."

"How long have you liked women for?"

"Since I realized I had feelings for Maura. It was unexpected…and I'm sorry you had to find out from Frankie. I was going to tell you."

"Do you understand what this means, Jane? Being gay – do you really know what you're getting into?"

"I think so."

"What about a family? What about marriage, children? Don't you want those things?"

"Ma – I don't know that I've ever wanted those things…but being gay doesn't stop me from having them."

"Of course it does! Would you really raise a child with another woman? Would you seriously put your child through that?"

"Ma! Stop it! Why are we talking about marriage and children? I'm not thinking about raising a family or marriage or any of those things at the moment, I'm still trying to figure out what Maura and I have!"

"But you like her."

"Yes, I like her."

"Like _that_, not, you know, as a girl crush – because those things are quite natural, even at your age, I'm sure…"

"Yes, Ma, like _that._"

"Does she like you?"

"Yeah, I guess."

I must have given something away in the tone of my voice because I see Ma's eye's reading me.

"What is it, Janey." She says and I know she's softening towards me by the use of my name. I weigh up telling her and it's probably not a good idea but I need to talk to someone and Ma's always been my go to person in the past.

"I don't know, Ma. I know she likes me but she's pulling away. And I don't know what to do…"

"Oh, Janey." She says and moves to sit beside me. I can imagine what she's thinking – she's thinking that it's not definite, that I'll probably snap out of it, it's a phase, a one time thing. And if Maura isn't interested, that I'll move on and find myself a man, like I should. Who knows, maybe she's right, I would. But right now the only person I care about is Maura. In a rare instance of delicacy, Ma doesn't say anything more, she just pats my hand. Her compassion is at once a relief and aggravating. She can see tear pooling in my eyes and she starts flapping, telling me stop because she never could handle any of her children crying and then cradles me like she did when I was little. I have a cry on her shoulder and leave shortly after, embarrassed. I've faced murders, murderers, an office full of macho men who constantly test me because I'm a woman and Maura is the one who makes me cry.

Well, at least Ma and I are talking again.

I pull out my cellphone and see I have three missed calls from Maura. I call her back.

"Hey."

"Sorry about rushing out on you before. I made it, good thing too because they book out months in advance and it's impossible to get a booking, especially this close to the school holidays. Just got home, in fact, and Bass and I had corn on the cob tonight, well actually I cut the corn off for him because he can't eat it off the cob then gave him a piece of melon for desert because I ran out of strawberries, I think his minder likes to give him some as treats which is fine, of course, but I will probably have to talk to him about not over indulging Bass' sweet tooth. Well actually that is a misnomer because turtles don't have teeth, they actually have a jagged beak to hold and chew with, surprisingly strong, you don't want to catch your finger there because he would sever it. But he probably wouldn't eat it because tortoises are herbivores. How are you?"

Wow. I've never heard her ramble like that before. Guess that means she doesn't want to talk about this afternoon in her office…

"I'm okay. Ma and I talked."

"That's wonderful!" I can hear that she is genuinely happy for me. "How is she?"

"Oh, struggling. But at least she's talking."

"Sometimes familiarity with a previously unfamiliar situation can help alleviate fear resulting from the unknown."

I snort. "Do you memorise these things or do you really think with big, fancy sentences like that?"

"Well actually, the human brain doesn't think in sentences but in concepts, feelings and images…"

"Maura!" I growl affectionately down the phone at her. She laughs softly.

"I miss you." I impulsively blurt out, wishing I could go to her place and cuddle with her on the couch. There is a pause at the end of the line.

"I miss you too." She finally replies. I know she means it because she doesn't lie but I suddenly feel like I want to cry again.

"'K, well I'll see you tomorrow." I say and hang up.

We've gone to the gym together and we're working out on the stairmaster. Maura's still being funny but resolutely avoiding any mention of it. One moment she's flirting with me, touching me in subtle, slightly-more-than-friends way and the next pulling back, turning me down for dinner, the movies, even the Boston Symphony Orchestra and I'm losing the courage to ask her again. It's killing me so I'm being crankier than usual. I've been thinking about confronting her with it, but I feel a fragility in her and something stops me and now, at the gym, she is quite clearly ogling Chuck as he works on the dumbbells.

"Maura" I hiss, "You're staring, at Chuck's biceps."

"I am. Females are used to being attracted the strongest most dominant males, it's natural selection at work."

"You're making me uncomfortable, stop it." What the hell?

"What? I'm just appreciating his sternocledomastoid." She says it as if it's perfectly natural for her to be doing that in front of her kinda girlfriend.

"Excuse me. You have beautifully developed musculature." She says to him and he smiles and she smiles back and then looks at me. "What am I embarrassing you?"

"No not at all. Why don't you tell him that he has a nice ass too."

"And a wonderfully proportionate glutius maximus." She calls out to him.

If this had been anyone else I would assume she was being nasty, but Maura is not nasty, she's the farthest thing from nasty. Is she trying to tell me that she doesn't want us? That she'd rather be friends? Is she telling me that she would rather be with a man?

Between that and my delinquent brother getting out of jail for running over a priest while drunk (I know! A priest!) I'm salting my coffee distractedly thinking things really can't get much worse. And then Maura is all concern and attention and I'm so confused. She's looking at me with that compassionate gaze, telling me she's there for me and in spite of everything I'm melting for her… but a dead cop's partner awaits me and I don't have time to sort it out right now. I'll do it tomorrow.

Armed men, under siege, brother shot, internal bleeding. Maura. Maura's frightened gaze as she tries to save him. "Do something!" I cry. I believe in her, she is his saviour. A cigarette case, a shot fired, the betrayal of a cop. My arm rising to protect Maura and my brother.

I am a hostage. "Shoot him! Shoot him!"

The dumb expressions of cops doing nothing. A heaving, a pulling, the nozzle of the gun from my head to my stomach and then pain. God awful, radiation, breath-taking pain. I'm shot and I'm falling to the ground. I hear my name from Maura's lips. Darkness.

PART 10

Consciousness comes to me in stages. I feel a hand in mine. I feel pain in my side, tubes up my nose. I hear voices, soothing and familiar. I'm happy to let them drift in and out for some time. I don't try to identify them, it's too much effort. Then I hear my breathing, the beating of my heart. I slowly open my eyes and I see Pa seated by me, it's his hand I'm holding. I blink and try to clear my throat. It burns but I scrape out a sound.

"Frankie?"

Pa's puliling Ma over and they're fussing over me, calling the nurse, telling me off. "What were you thinking, Janey?"

"Frankie?" I manage again, stronger.

"He's fine, he's in the bed next to you."

I turn my head slowly to see a bed, on it is my brother. I relax. I can relax. I drift back to sleep.

It's dark when I open my eyes again, feeling another hand in mine, small and warm, interlaced. I shift, trying to see who is there and then I hear her voice. "Jane?" It's a low whisper floating in the dark. Maura. Dear sweet Maura, you are here.

"Urgh." I say even though it's not what I mean. I feel her hand stroke my forehead and her eyes shine in the darkness.

"Shhhh." She's saying, "It's okay." And she kisses my forehead. "I'm here." She kisses me again. She helps me drink some water from a straw.

"Pain."

She calls for a nurse who injects me with morphine and I feel a happy numbness steel over me. Maura is watching and when the nurse goes she draws near and I smile at her.

"So beautiful." I whisper and my finger traces her jawline. She looks at me and I look back and I feel we understand each other perfectly.

"Stay."

"I'm here."

I sleep.

I wake and she is gone. I turn my head to see Frankie lying in his bed, tubes sticking out, an IV drip and the rising and falling of his chest. Ma walks in with a coffee in her hand and rushes over and kisses me.

"Janey!" she cries over and over and then she taps me on my hand in reproach. "Don't you dare scare me like that again, Janey, ever! Why did you go and do a stupid thing like shooting yourself? You're brother would have been fine, they told me. Now do you see why I don't want my children to be cops? I could have lost both of you, both! I now have more grey hairs that I can shake a stick at. And your father. Your poor father, do you really want to send him to an early grave? I thought he was going to have a heart attack when we heard…"

She talks for a while like that and I let her, too weak to try and interject until she's done.

"I love you, Ma."

She looks at me and the tears are there and suddenly she's crying and touching my cheek, holding my hand to her heart. "I love you too, Janey."

"Stop calling me Janey…"

"Shhhh." She says and sits down by my bed. "You need to rest…"

I look around me at the flowers on the tables, the cards. I see one with a cartoon dog that looks suspiciously like Jo Friday holding a bunch of flowers out and I'm pretty sure it's from Korsak. Then I spot a Louis Vuiton bag neatly stowed by the window.

"Is that yours?" I say, frowning.

"It's Maura's." she says. I've been thinking about Maura since I woke up but I didn't want to say anything in case it upset her.

"Maura's?"

"She's been sleeping here so your Pa and I can get some rest."

"Oh."

Ma seems content to leave the explanation at that.

PART 11

It's 7pm when Maura walks through the door. She's dressed beautifully, as ever, in grey raw silk dress and a matching cardigan, her heels clicking on the lenolium floor. She smiles at me and then acknowledges my parents who are sitting nearby.

"Mr and Mrs Rizzoli."

"Maura."

She comes to me and drops a kiss on my forehead.

"You're awake!" She smiles and then she pulls a container from a bag and puts in on my dinner tray. "Soup. Rich in essential vitamins and minerals to get you healthy and on your feet again."

"Thanks."

"Would you like some too, Mr Rizzoli? Mrs Rizzoli? I've made enough for all of us."

"Thank-you, no" They say. I'm pretty sure Ma is watching us like a hawk, it's the first time she's seen us together since my little revelation. Maura's pulling up a chair, scanning my charts and when she's done I hold out my hand for hers and she interlaces our fingers.

"How are you?"

"Tired. Sore."

"You're body has suffered severe trauma but you look to be recovering very well."

"I'm just glad Frankie is alright. Thank-you for saving him."

"It was luck that I didn't do anything to harm him."

"No" I admonish gently, "Luck had nothing to do with it. You're a brilliant doctor. I trust you completely."

Over in the other bed, Frankie is stirring. He's been drifting in and out of consciousness, his injuries more severe than mine. Ma and Pa abandon their not so subtle observation of us to attend to him. Maura pulls out a spoon and wiggles it.

"You hungry now? I only just finished making it, it should still be warm."

"You made this?"

"Yes. It was the only way to ensure organic produce without preservatives or additives."

I laugh and quickly regret it when pain shoots up from my wound. Maura opens the lid and dips the spoon in.

"Woah!" I say when I see her bringing the utensil to my lips. "I can feed myself!" I lift my right arm and quickly switch to my left. I feel a little clumsy but start to eat.

"Wow, this is amazing." It was.

"I'm glad you like it."

Maura's watching me.

"Stop looking." I say after a few awkward spoonfuls, "It's annoying." I'm weak and not accustomed to eating with my left hand so I'm barely doing a passable job. Her eyes on me are not helping.

"You have a bit of soup on your chin." She says, produces a napkin and leans in to wipe it off.

"Maura!" I take the napkin off her and begin to wipe the offending mark myself, perhaps a little too vigorously because I feel the blood rush from my face and I have to lay back against my pillows and take a deep breath.

"I'm sorry. I'm being a bitch."

"It's okay. You're hurt and you don't like to feel weak." Funny how the truth rankles, so I scowl and Maura gets this soft, warm look in her eyes. She takes my hand.

"What were you thinking?" she asks quietly.

"I was afraid for Frankie."

"So you shot yourself?"

It does seem a little overkill now but at the time I'd felt desperate. My little brother lay on the cold, hard, metal autopsy table dying from internal bleeding. The Police station was crawling with who knew how many bad guys, every second was critical

"Yeah, well Frankie can't say I don't do anything for him now." I'm trying to deflect because I can feel myself getting emotional but Maura's not taking the bait. She squeezes my hand. "You scared me, Jane. Really scared me." The tears are welling. I'm used to Ma crying but when it's Maura, it's too much.

"Hey! Don't cry." I say but they come anyway and I wipe them away with my fingertips.

"Well, we're off!" Ma says sidling up and making me jump as I pull my finger hastily away.

"Ow!" I groan weakly.

Ma and Pa kiss me goodbye and promise to be by early tomorrow before Pa has to go to work. Frankie, conscious for only a few moments, is asleep again so it's just the two of us.

"How are you?" I ask Maura. "After what happened?"

She smiles weakly. "I'm fine."

"Uh, Maura, You're not, I can see it. Tell me."

"Bass is better!" she diverts, "He's eating organic lettuce and strawberries again."

"Maura!"

"It's nothing really."

"Maura, please, don't shut me out." I plead earnestly and I can see her resolve breaking. "Talk to me."

"It's just some mild symptoms of post-traumatic stress," she says after a moment, " the councellor has said it's very common in hostage situations and it'll probably pass in a few weeks."

Later, at my apartment she will tell me that she's been afraid to sleep alone in her apartment because between this and the case involving her biological family, she feels that nothing in her world is safe anymore. It scares her.

"You know you can talk to me, right?"

"I know."

"About anything…"

I can see she understands what I'm getting at. She stiffens a little, her eyes glaze over.

"Not now, Jane." She says and goes to her bag.

I watch her. I want to have this conversations, I'm just too tired to insist. She pulls out a tracksuit and goes to change in the bathroom.

"You going to sleep here?" I ask.

"Yes."

"That is incredibly sweet of you, but from what Ma has told me you've stayed here every night and you need to sleep in a proper bed."

Maura shakes her head "I'm not going anywhere."

"Maura…how are you even allowed in here?"

"I got Korsak to flash his badge and don't argue, I'm staying." She's quite adamant and I see that it's going to take more energy than I have to convince her otherwise. To be honest the thought of her here makes me feel warm inside.

I'm starting to feel sleepy and must have drifted off because when I awake it's dark outside and Maura is in the hospital chair with a blanket on her, some medical journal fallen to the side. I whisper to her and she stirs. I open up the blanket of my bed and, after a moment of hesitation, she crawls in tucking her petite frame against me, careful not to disturb my bandage. Not the setting I imagined for when we woke up in each other's arms for the first time, but the sensation of her all limp and sleepy against me comforts me, leaves me drifting off with a smile on my face.

PART 12

Ma is driving me insane. Thank-God Frankie is there to take some of the coddling because I'm chomping at the bit. She's fussing, calling the nurses every five seconds, puffing pillows, force feeding us and generally getting in the way. I know it's her way of coping – having two children at death's door is unsettling for anyone and especially for the type of person Ma is. And the fact that there is a cop posted at the door for security has her on edge. Dad has been coming by after work for a couple of hours and thankfully knows how to calm her. A couple of days after I wake up we're discharged and Ma's trying to convince me I should come home with her so she can take care of the both of us. There is no way I'm doing that and I can see Ma's set for an argument until Maura steps in and volunteers to take care of me. I think I love this woman. Ma gives Maura and I a very piercing look but she has no grounds on which to object, she is, after all a doctor and, it turns out, a wonderful nurse.

I assume by taking care of me Maura means popping by before and after work, but it would seem, by the look of the suitcase she brings over, that she's moving in. I make one very weak protest about it because I kinda like the idea of Maura staying, even if it does mean having Bass crawling through the apartment. Jo Friday is delighted to see me after hanging at Maura's place the past few days and she happily runs around sniffing everything.

"Is it alright if I make space in your wardrobe and cupboard for my things?" Maura asks once I'm settled on the couch and flicking through TV channels.

"Sure." I hear her rattling around and the odd dismayed exclamation at what's in my wardrobe. I imagine her pretty blouses, tops and dresses hanging beside my own more functional clothes, her underwear and socks nestled sweetly along side mine…

"Argh, stop, stop, stop." I slap myself mentally, realizing just how mushy and disgusting I sound. So to distract myself I get up for a glass of water which ends up with me doubled over and Maura having to help me back to my seat.

"That's what I'm here for." She admonishes handing me the glass. She sits down, placing my legs on her lap "NCIS re-runs, huh?"

"Yeah. I kinda think Kate Todd is hot."

"Do you? You like brunettes then."

"Well not just brunettes…" I'm watching her carefully, I'm conscious of not wanting to say anything that might make her withdraw. She looks calm and relaxed, so I risk it. "There is this golden haired beauty I'm rather fond of…"

"And who would that be?" Phew. She's playing along.

"Have you heard of Dr Maura Isles per chance?"

"I may have. Who is she?"

"Only the sexiest, smartest, most amazing, beautiful, goofy woman I know."

"Hmmm, that's quite a list."

She moves, placing her legs alongside mine, her arm holding herself up as she hovers over me on the couch. Hair falls in a curtain of waves, tickling my cheeks. I slowly tuck them behind her ear and let my hands rest on her firm, warm cheeks. I can feel the blood in me surge.

"She's quite a woman…" I breath, my thumb brushing the corner of her mouth and I look into her eyes. In them is a world of emotions I can't begin to untangle. I kiss her. It's our first kiss since the night she was kidnapped and all the more intoxicating for that. The glorious thing is, she's responding. I feel her bite down softly on my lip. I whimper. I open my mouth and feel her enter me, my hand threading into her hair, keeping her close and I suck on the plumpness of her lower lip. My heart soars, I feel that she wants me, that she is not lost to me. Since the accident she's been attentive, affectionate and loving, but it's always stopped just shy of meaning something more. I pull her down but my injury flares with the contact.

"Ow."

"Sorry." She says pulling away, as if some spell is broken, and she sits back at my feet, she avoids my eyes. I watch her watching the TV a moment, confused and deflated. Then she turns to me and says.

"My father called me just after the shooting."

"Your father?"

"My biological father. He called to see if I was okay."

"He did?"

"Yeah."

"How do you feel about that?"

"I don't know. Strange."

"He was no doubt worried for you."

"Yes. But that is what is so disconcerting. He's a bad man, Jane. A really bad man. And yet he protects me and he's checking up on me."

I don't quite know what to say but I'm glad she's confiding in me

"How are you feeling about everything? About your brother, your father…"

She's quiet a while and she looks at the TV screen as Agent Todd falls against Agent Gibbs when the submarine they are in shoots to the surface.

"I'm sorry," she says, "For the way I've been acting." She looks at me with that open naked look I'd seen that time where I'd held her hands and told her that she had nothing of the darkness in her that Hoyt has. "I ran away from you without giving you a reason. And I'm sorry."

"Why?"

She shrugs looking at her hands as she fidgets with her ring. "It was an irrational reaction. Fear… was part of it."

"Fear?"

"Fear of who I really am, who my biological family is…I have no right to pull you into that. And fear of what was happening between us." She pauses a moment, looking at me. "What I'm feeling. I'm not used to feeling quite so… much."

"Oh…" I'm trying to compute all these mixed up signals. I'm feeling a little like a yo-yo and trying really hard to figure out the right thing to say. " You know you can always talk to me though, right?"

"Yes, I do. I'm very grateful for that." She's sitting there, looking small under my legs.

"There's something more, isn't there?"

She doesn't answer for so long that I think she isn't going to. Her hands are perched on my legs and she unconsciously strokes them while she figures out what she wanted to say.

"Did you make that call?"

"What call?"

"The call to my father. To tell him who killed my brother?"

"No. I didn't." I say sincerely.

"Someone made that call and you appeared to have the clearest motivation. But then you said no and I wondered if you'd lied to me… you know how I feel about lying. And a man died because of it."

Ah. It's beginning to make sense. I can see it now, like the final piece in a jigsaw. Trust. It comes down to trust. The same way in which I had needed to know that Maura had my back when her ex-lover's family was involved in that murder investigation, she needs to know that I have hers.

"Yeah, a very bad man."

"That doesn't matter!" she cries. "No, I don't want to die, but now I have to live knowing that a man died because of me, because of who I am and who my father is."

"You listen to me Maura. You are not responsible for who your biological family is or what they do. They are their own people, just as you are your own person. You are not accountable for their actions because you share DNA."

She's looking at me forlornly and then she's settling herself against me, careful not to disturb my injury. I encircle her with my arm and kiss her hair. I feel her heart beat against my side.

"It's not your fault. He would have killed the guy whether you were involved or not."

"Would he?" she murmurs against my chest.

"They were gang rivals. You were just the convenient excuse, it could have been anything."

I'm not sure Maura's entirely convinced.

" I wish you'd talked to me sooner about this." I say.

"I'm sorry. I've never really had someone who really cares. I've always been expected to figure out things on my own… but then I realized…I do have someone who cares now and I almost lost you." She whispers. "I shouldn't have pushed you away, Jane. I'm sorry."

My heart wells up because I perceive her loneliness as if were mine. In ways I can never know, she has truly been alone.

"Well you've got me now and you've got my family. They can be your family too." I say and brush a mesh of hair from her face. She lifts her head and looks at me with tears in her eyes. She smiles and kisses me softly and then tucks her head under my chin.

"Thank-you."

PART 13

Maura stays with me until I returned to work. When I get back in the office Korsak and Frost have organized coffee and cake and a big banner that say "Welcome back Rizzoli" I get slapped on the back multiple times by everyone, telling me that I'm insane for shooting myself in the stomach and that I can back them up any day. I'm still a bit tired and sore but I don't do house bound so well even if Ma and Pa are over every day and the reward is Maura coming home at night, the clinking of the keys in her hand as she walks through the door, the smile on her face as she greets me, the smell of her as we lie in bed at night, our hands running over each other's skin, thighs, rib cages, breasts, our explorations becoming bolder, hotter, more delicious.

That first night home, we'd lain there on the couch, just breathing together, the drone of TV in the background, the cars distant outside. I think we needed a moment to release the confusion and uncertainty of the last few weeks and to simply be held. When it was time for bed, neither of us had said anything. She'd help me undress, averting her eyes with the consciousness of a would be lover. She'd slipped between the cool cotton sheets and had lain there, looking at me, her face serious, her eyes searching and then she'd inched in and traced my collarbone with her fingers. She'd dipped her head and softly kissed me there, inhaling, nuzzling my pulse point that fluttered like butterfly wings. I could feel the soft curl of her eyes lashes on my cheeks. Her kisses had been achingly sweet, her lips plump and tender. We'd moved together slowly, our breaths catching and sighing and I'd longed to pull her to me, but I was fresh out of hospital and my wound raw. I'd laid my head on her shoulder and she'd held me until I slept. Each night we'd come into each other's arms and explored tentatively, slowly, chastened by the memory of our initial haste. When I'd decided to return to work, she'd smiled and nodded and told me she was ready to face her apartment again.

I'm pulled into the boss' office, who tries to look disapproving but ends up slapping me on the back too.

"You're a wild one, Rizzoli, you've got guts and you can't fault a cop for having that. Just don't do it again."

Oh I have no plans for shooting myself ever again.

I'm meant to get a formal reprimand but he makes a show of ripping it up and telling me that if I ever pull another stunt like that he'll personally kick my ass. I dutifully nod my head.

"Yes, sir." I say.

I go to see Frankie who is recovering well, though he's not back to work for another week at least. Unlike me he doesn't seem to mind the extra coddling from Ma, but then he always was a mama's boy. I help Ma out in the kitchen and as I watch the familiar back of my mother, the tea towel over the shoulder, the steam rising from the pots and pan, I feel a renewed sense of appreciation for my family. It's not perfect – I have a mother who nags non stop, one brother who is released from jail but doesn't want to see us (he's been non-contactable since – and even if he was, I don't know if he would have come to the hospital.), another who thinks the sun shines out my ass (shooting yourself to save him will do that) and parents who are morphing into those cranky old couples that argue all the time…but it's comfortable and loving and a place to belong.

Ma's is berating me copiously for refusing to stay at home during my convalescence.

"But I suppose you'd rather have Maura take care of you."

"Frankly, Ma, yeah. She doesn't make me want to shoot myself in the head with my handgun!"

"Don't be dramatic, Jane." She pokes the potatoes with a fork."She does seem to care for you though." She says into her pot. "And I do actually like her. She's a well mannered, intelligent, beautiful woman. She's a doctor… and I suppose you could do a lot worse."

I stop the grating of cheese and turn to look at her. "What are you trying to say, Ma?"

"I'm saying that I wish she was man but she isn't. And if you and her… well, I just want you to be happy."

"You're okay with it?"

"No, I'm not okay with it!" she cries, "I want what any mother wants for her child; a family, a home, love and happiness… and I always thought it would be with a man, Jane. I really did. But I've watched the way she's taken care you and you seem to care a great deal for one another… and I've been thinking since you got shot, you know, thinking about how I could have lost you and your brother and how I would have never forgiven myself if you'd died and we hadn't been okay. So, just go and be happy, Janey. I don't get it, but if she's the one you want, then fine." She looks so sad and I can see what it's costing her to say it.

I come up from behind and envelope her in a hug which I think startles her because I'm not the most tactile of creatures when it comes to her. "Thank-you." I say with feeling and kiss her on the head. She pats my hand.

"I still want grand children, you know."

PART 14

The live music is great, the food is delicious, the beer perfect and the company even better. Maura and I are on our second date at a cozy Argentinean restaurant at the end of a long week.

"How did you even know about this place?" I ask Maura because she's the one who picked it.

"Just because I like' high-brow' things doesn't mean I can't enjoy a more relaxed atmosphere!" Maura says. "And besides you made the effort to choose somewhere I liked for our first date, so I thought I'd choose something you'd like for our second."

She'd sent me a single red long stemmed rose with a little card asking me out which had had everyone wiggling their eyebrows at me.

"Who's it from, eh?" They had asked.

"From Maura." I'd replied and left them to mull it over. Almost dying makes the gender of who I'm seeing a little irrelevant. And besides I was more preoccupied with the colour of the rose being red than with fending off the interest of my colleagues.

She'd picked me up, looking stunning wearing the floral dress she'd danced in front of me that time she tried, rather unhelpfully, to dress me up for my fake lesbian dates.

I appreciate the dress a lot more now that it's on her. And I think I'm developing a fetish for Maura's shoes because wow. But I digress. We've finished our meal and she's holding her hand out to me.

"May I have this dance?"

"I'm not sure, Maura… I'm not really the dancing type."

"Nonsense. I can tell by the way you move that you are an excellent dancer. Besides," she says leaning in close and giving me a delightful peek at her cleavage, "I want an excuse to touch you."

She need not ask me twice. I take her proffered hand and she leads me to the dance floor.

"How do we do this?" I ask eyeing the other couples.

"I have studied the male moves. I'll lead."

"Why should you lead? I'm taller, and like I said that time, I'd be the guy if I was ever in a lesbian relationship."

"Your reasoning is faulty, Jane. And do you even know how to lead?"

Hmmmm. Well she does have a point.

"Fine!" I grumble "but I want a turn later."

"That is fine with me, but only after you've had lessons. I don't want you stepping on my toes because you don't know what you're doing."

I grumble some more but concede. She takes my hand in one of hers, and then places the other on my lower back. She pulls me in close so that our breasts are almost touching. Her hold is surprisingly strong and she really does know how to lead though she chastises me a few times before I actually let her. A few songs in and we're really getting the hang of it and I realize if I just let her guide me I don't come off too badly. She twirls and turns me and it's all very exhilarating. We're a little out of breath and our faces flushed when a slow song starts.

"Now I lead." I say to her and slip my hands down to her hips, pulling her body to mine. She doesn't object, curling her arms around my neck, our cheeks brushing together. The air is suddenly electric, the sensual sway of her body against mine, hypnotic. My arms wrap around her until we are in the closest possible embrace, until I think I can feel the beating of her heart against my chest. It feels so good. She nuzzles my neck, my pulse rate leaping up about twenty notches and my knees are beginning to feel a little weak. At the conclusion of the song she breaths in my ear "You ready to go?"

That would be a yes.

The car ride is silent, the air throbbing between us. I sit back and look at her openly as she drives, desire no doubt evident on my face and I know she can feel my eyes raking over her because she blushes as she watches the road. While she turns the car off I get out and open the driver's door, pulling her up by the hand and leading her to my apartment.

When I push her against the wall, she hesitates a moment before she's responding and then her hands are on me, under my top, finger digging into my back. I maneuver us to the bedroom and we're dropping items of clothing as we go. I slide my hand up her thingh and pull her panties down while Maura's managed to remove my top and is starting on my jeans. I obligingly step out of them. She hooks a leg around my waist as we slam into my bedroom door and I almost die as I feel her wet pussy grinding onto my stomach. We're a little frantic, our movements desperate and hungry. We've spent weeks building up to this, never quite daring to plummet into full blown sex, but now you couldn't stop me will a bulldozer. I want her so much, my vision has turned myopic and it's focused on her. Only her.

I've kicked off my shoes and she's unhooked my bra as I reach for the door knob and we stumble through. Driving her to the bed, her knees give way as the backs of them bump against the edge. She falls back, pulling me with her, her hair spilling golden on the bed spread. I take a long languid moment as I lie on top to explore her mouth, skimming my tongue along the roof, suckling on her lips, before I move my way down her body. She lies there, her chest heaving. I can smell her arousal as I kiss her exposed inner thigh and begin to untie her fuck me heels, removing her perfectly formed feet, her toes painted red. Red for love. Red for passion. I blow air up her dress as I remove the other foot. She's sat up and she's watching me, and as soon as I'm done she's pulling me up to straddle her. Fingertips skim my belly and she's cupping my breasts as she holds my gaze, flicking the nipple with her thumbs and then she lowers her head to take me in her mouth. Sweet Jesus. A sound issues from deep inside and I'm desperate to feel her skin on mine. My head spinning, I find the zip at the back of the dress and pull it down. I feel the hard tips of her breasts press against my ribs, the fleshy swell brush against the underside of mine. My body is on fire, sensitized until even the most fleeting touches reverberate through me.

"Oh, Maura!" I rasp. Her hand is down my panties, her fingers massaging my clit in bold measured strokes. And then she's inside me, sliding in and out of my slick, wet opening, curling the fingers at just the right spot that starts that delicious tremor building. I'm panting, gridning, whimpering, my fingers gripping her hair as she switches to my other nipple. I buck against her hand and it feels so fucking good. It's Maura in my arms, it's her mouth on me, her fingers inside me, the palm of her hand pressing against my clit. It's the smell of her shampoo, her perfume and that fragrance that is hers alone. It's the silk of her skin brushing against mine, the tip of her nose pressing into my breast, that possessive hand racking down my back. The wave of pleasure is rising, rising, rising, curling into my toes and finger tips, until all at once I'm exploding, coming apart, falling into that endless, glorious nothing and finally coming to rest in her warm, solid arms. I stay a moment enjoying the lassitude that follows, content to drift in this safe place. I place a kiss behind her ear and nuzzled the spot there. Then I kiss her lips, running my hands over her smooth torso, pushing her down and remove her dress from around her waist.

Glorious. Her body is divine, the perfect mixture of soft curve and firm muscle and I can see her heartbeat quivering under her breast. She's looking at me wantonly, through lidded eyes as I climb onto her, pulling her up the bed until she's laid out, naked, willing and mine. I kiss her, our bodies not quite touching but for our lips and I can feel her heat caressing me. She's laying quite still but underneath I feel a passion broiling and it excites me, wondering what it is that will make her explode. I trace a finger down her jaw, her neck, down the side of her body until it reaches her leg and I knead the flesh. Impatient for more contact her hands move to pull me down on her and sighs, rocking against me, our nipples skimming together as we move. Her lips are delicious and swollen, her sighs intoxicating. Maura. My sweet, goofy Maura, undeniably woman, hot and molten under my hands. Gone are the walls of intellect and reason, gone are the coherent, logical explanations, facts, figures and statistics. She is reacting on instinct, giving over, vulnerable in my arms .

"I want you." She whispers in my ear and my heart flops.

"Show me." I say.

We sit up. She turns around, sliding her ass onto my lap, her back pressing against my chest and her knees falling either side. She pulls my hand to press into her wet open pussy. She leans back, her arms snaking around to pull my lips to hers and she moans. Oh God, I can see her pert breasts, her flat stomach, the thatch of hair between her thighs and my hand nestled there. Her juices coat my fingers and I'm flicking her clit, the fleshy nub that has her whole body thrumming against mine. I pinch her nipple with my other hand, teasing it up and she arches, her moans turning to little cries of pleasure. I suck on her neck, tasting the salty sweat of her ardour, feeling the trembling building. I slide another finger in.

"Oh god, yes!" she cries. She's rocking against my hand, it's becoming erratic and then she's grabbing my hand, holding the fingers deep inside as she rides them.

"Oh god, oh god!" the sounds are wrung from her lungs, "Oh god, Jane!". I bite gently down on her shoulder and then she's screaming ecstasy, convulsing, her walls clenching around my fingers long and hard, suspended in the wave of her orgasm. She falls against me, limp.

"Oh god, oh god." She's still sighing. She kisses me, breathing me in, humming. I pull out of her pressing her to me and then we curl up together, sweaty, heaving, alive. I'm looking into her blue eyes, caressing her languorously. I'm overcome. I have no words. She's looking at me, her hair mussed and golden like a halo, her eyes smoldering, brimming with emotion.

"I love you, Jane."

Her word's ricochet, tumbling through me, making me soar and I laugh because I've just realized something. I kiss her eyelids and cup her face.

"I love you too, Maura."

She smiles, her face lit up like the sun. We laugh, our joy overflowing and when she wipes tears away with her thumbs, I realize I'm crying.

It's Friday night and I've just fallen in love with Dr. Maura Isles.

We hold each other and sleep.


End file.
